Plus One
by Clover Bay
Summary: Finding a date shouldn't be too difficult for Hermione, heroine of the war, and Fred, fun-loving and famous in his own right. Yet, the two fall into a pattern of relying on each other to fulfill the 'plus one' requirement on the invitations they receive. Hermione/Fred. Previously posted and re-loaded.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** Finding a date shouldn't be too difficult for Hermione, heroine of the war, and Fred, fun-loving and famous in his own right. Yet, the two fall into a pattern of relying on each other to fulfill the 'plus one' requirement on the invitations they receive.

**Author's Note:** Fred and Hermione are such a great couple that I wanted to write a short story bringing them together. There will only be three chapters, so review early and often. Thanks to WeasleyForMe for offering great suggestions and beta reading this story.

**Disclaimer:** All characters and setting references to Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling.

**Plus One**

_**Chapter 1: Beginnings**_

Hermione glanced at Fred's messily scrawled note as she relaxed into her squishy couch in the living room of the one-bedroom flat she owned. There once was a time when the two feared that their correspondence could be intercepted; but she often wondered if, at least on his part, that worry was unfounded. If she hadn't been reading his scribbled letters for so long, it would have been difficult to decipher the message. As it was, every word made sense. She had received three such notes, with varying destinations, in the last two weeks.

_I need you to be my 'plus one.' Lee and Angelina are having an engagement party tomorrow night and my invitation insists that I bring a date. You owe me, you know. I have fulfilled your 'plus one' exactly thirteen times and you are woefully far behind. -Fred_

How he managed to keep track of the number of favors they had given one another baffled her. Of course she intended to accompany him, that had been established a long time ago. They always turned to one another, and not once had they left the other hanging in the lurch.

Somewhere along the way, though, she had begun to look forward to the obligatory 'plus one' tag lines at the bottom of such invitations.

_The summer of Bill and Fleur's wedding . . ._

Hermione sat beneath one of the trees in the orchard behind the Burrow. The only place she found to escape the wedding chaos and Mrs. Weasley's overly watchful eye was to sneak away to the small wooded area.

The beaded bag she packed several weeks ago needed constant tending to. With each new addition, the contents were shuffled about; she refused to have it disorganized, at least before they had even left the Burrow.

Peering into the bag, Hermione mentally ticked off the items she, Harry, and Ron were taking with them when she heard the crunching of twigs and leaves approaching. Hastily stowing the bag beneath her leg, she pulled out the _Standard Book of Spells, Year Seven _and began reading from a random page.

"Hey there, Hermione."

Fred. So he had found her hiding place. She hoped he wasn't coming to collect her to help spruce up the house for the Delacours again.

"Don't look at me like that," he admonished with a grin. "It's not my fault mum's keeping the three of you so busy."

Exasperation crept into her voice as she said, "So you've noticed. And, how is it that you and George manage to evade her?"

"Ah . . now that's a twin secret. I'm afraid I can't tell you that . . mostly because you might not like the answer." The mischievous gleam in his eyes assured her that she probably didn't want to know.

His smile was infectious. They both remembered the numerous times Hermione caught them pulling some prank or 'testing' a new product during her time as a prefect as well as the very loud yelling that usually followed. "Fair enough. I'll ask you no questions . . ."

"And I'll tell you no lies." He looked at her with a bit of astonishment as she threw one of his and George's best sayings back at him.

"Now that you've found me, you don't plan on dragging me back to wedding central, do you?"

"Would I do that?" The disbelieving expression on her face assured him that she believed him very much capable of revealing her location. Holding his hands up in surrender, he continued, "Okay, okay . . I could, but that's not why I came looking for you."

Fred plopped down beside her, sending a little dust to cloud around them as his bum landed on a grass-less patch under the tree. "The reason I was looking for you, is to give you this." He handed her a rolled scroll of parchment that was tied with a tiny blue ribbon.

"We, that is George and I, know that you three are leaving."

Hermione paled at his words and pushed her leg down onto the beaded bag to reassure herself that it was still secure. They had been so careful in their planning. No one was supposed to know.

"Hermione . . Hermione," Fred lightly shook her arm to bring her attention back to him. "We don't plan on telling anyone, but we want you to do something for us.

"Mum and dad will be worried when you leave and, well . . we want to spare mum, particularly, as much as possible. Harry and Ron won't think to write and we don't want to rely on them to let us know that you lot are alright. So, we were hoping that you would let us know that you are at least still alive."

The faint humor he tried to inflect into the end of his request wasn't strong enough to mask the sincerity of his and George's request.

Hermione was hesitant to agree. "Please understand that I shouldn't even be talking about this with you and that, however you and George figured it out, you must keep it to yourselves."

At his nod, she continued, "But, I can't risk something being intercepted. We could be found, or one of you could be interrogated because of the information I would be passing along.

"Fred," her face had lost all brightness as she turned to face him directly, "I won't allow anything to be potentially be found and used against us."

Remembering the gash along the side of George's head, Fred reached up and touched his own ear, as Hermione placed a soft hand on his arm. The night of Harry's rescue weighed heavily on their minds. Someone had put them in danger by unknowingly, or possibly purposely, leaking the Order's plans to move Harry away from Privet Drive to the Burrow.

"I know, and I . . we wouldn't ask you to jeopardize whatever it is that you three are off doing.

"This is no ordinary piece of parchment, it's something new that we've developed for the shop. Only the person writing on it will be able to read the out-going and reply messages. There are two pieces of parchment that serve as mates. You have one and I have the other. Whenever you write a quick note to tell us that you are okay, I'll be able to read it and answer back with the news from our end.

"To anyone else who looks at the paper without being one of the original two writers, they will be able to read something random, but pertinent to your surroundings. For example, last year George and I used two other pieces of paper to write notes to one another in classes; when a professor would look at them, they commented on how good our essays were or how concise our lecture notes had been written.

"This parchment is secure. We wouldn't give it to you otherwise."

Hermione eventually accepted the Twin Paper, as Fred had named it, and proceeded to write and receive a short note from him to seal the paper as belonging to them. And, Hermione followed through with her promise to send the occasional 'we're alive' note.

When she, Harry, and Ron began to camp throughout the forests and highlands, the exchanges between her and Fred started to lengthen. The night watches and endless monotony of staring at each other and the inside of the tent prompted her to turn to him. She rarely wrote of the specifics of their mission, choosing instead to reminisce about events at Hogwarts or the Burrow.

Fred turned out to be surprisingly good with his correspondence. Not once did he pry or ask her of their whereabouts; he refrained from discussing things she could not truthfully answer. He'd laughed the first time she wrote, simply penning, _"Ask us no questions and we'll tell you no lies."_

One night, in the middle of winter, his Twin Paper came to life with words and sentences forming. It was well past mid-night, and long since George had turned in, so he stayed up with her, sending message after message back and forth.

She was on lookout duty and wanted to keep her imagination from running away from her. The forest, she let that slip accidentally, was filled with non-threatening sounds: the rustling of the wind among the trees, an owl attacking a small mouse, the water babbling in a nearby brook. Hermione confided that she needed something to keep her alert rather than paranoid by the innocent sounds.

Knowing that it was easier to put things into writing rather than say them aloud to someone, Fred felt secure in starting a game of 'I never'. There were no wagers or consequences, simply something to pass the time. He began the exchange, with Hermione responding before he would continue with anything else.

"_I never . . skipped dessert at Hogwarts. Even when I had detention."_

"_I never kept a library book out past its due date."_

"_I never ate at the Slytherin table."_

"_I never earned a 'T' on an essay."_

"_I never went a year without a 'T' on some essay or another." _

"_I never stayed up past curfew."_

"_I never made my bed."_

"_I never understood Quidditch."_

"_I've never _willingly_ missed a Quidditch match. And, no, that stunt Umbridge pulled does not count."_

"_I never wanted to go to a Quidditch match."_

On and on they went, slowly revealing things of a more personal in nature. Again, Fred was the first to instigate the change.

"_I never . . took Angelina out again after the Yule Ball."_

"_I've never been asked to Hogsmeade by anyone other than Harry and Ron."_

"_I've never gone out with anyone who George dated first."_

"_I've never had a serious boyfriend."_

"_I've never had a serious girlfriend."_

"_I've never . . been kissed."_

Hermione wondered if she had said too much. The gloom of their hunt for the horcruxes left her somewhat doubtful that life would ever return to normal; some of her 'I never's reflected her inner thoughts of things that might never come to pass.

This wasn't the first time she wondered if she opened up too much to Ron's older brother; but the longer they wrote, the more it seemed like the Fred she was getting to know would never use her words against her - if they ever met up again.

Fred, too, began to see another side to his brother's bookish friend. Originally he and George approached her because she was the most reliable. As the weeks passed, his perception of Hermione began to change. Without others to intrude on their notes, they were free to write openly; he was shocked to learn that Hermione had a wickedly sharp sense of humor and could joke with him as easily as George could.

Without realizing it, he became attached to her missives. The mundane musings about the weather or her analysis of some text she read had become a part of his day; he even looked forward to debating some hypothetical theory with her. He was sure she would be shocked to learn that their brainstorming had led to dozens of new inventions for Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

After that long night of writing notes to one another, they both made time to write more often. Eventually, they were sending notes once a day instead of every week or ten days when the trio first left.

Because of the steady correspondence, Fred began to panic when three days passed and he hadn't heard anything from Hermione. It was spring, but the days seemed darker as the war progressed. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong; with each passing day, he watched the magical parchment more closely. He re-read the conversations that lay at the top of the scroll, all of them from the first to the one just a few days ago.

On the fourth night, long after dark at a time when he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, words slowly started to appear. The time it took for the letters to be strung together in an almost childish writing took its toll on his already frazzled nerves.

_I've updated our 'I never' list. After this weekend I had to cross off a few things. Ask me a question . . . - Hermione_

Unrolling the parchment, he searched through the first 'I never' list and then onto the others that were added later. His heart stopped along with his breathing as he saw a line crossed through _I never had to face an unforgivable_. He slumped into a nearby chair when he saw the next annotated entry, _I've never been tortured_.

After seeing no other changes to the older notes, he rolled the parchment until only the newest entry was visible. He took note that she hadn't even started what had become 'their' quote correctly. "Ask me a question . ." The longer he thought on her words the more he wondered if she had, in fact, written exactly what she intended.

As the reply was forming in his mind, Bill entered their Aunt Muriel's house where the entire family, save for Bill and Fleur, were staying. With a quick exchange, Fred pocketed the Twin Paper and followed Bill back to Shell Cottage.

The sight that met his eyes was one he would never forget: her petite form lying curled up, shivering every so often as tremors wracked her body, a quill hanging loosely from her fingertips as it dripped onto a ragged piece of parchment. The ghost of a smile as she recognized his voice was all she could muster before succumbing to the pain and sleeping potions Fleur gave her.

Everything changed for him that night. A closeness that can only be forged through time and shared experience brought out a protectiveness that he'd never known before. From that night onward, he sought her out.

She, too, after waking to his gentle caress of her face and hands, knew there was something different, something special about Fred.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary:** Finding a date shouldn't be too difficult for Hermione, heroine of the war, and Fred, fun-loving and famous in his own right. Yet, the two fall into a pattern of relying on each other to fulfill the 'plus one' requirement on the invitations they receive.

**Author's Note:** _Thanks to those of you who have reviewed and added this to your story alerts/favorites! You're awesome! _Fred and Hermione are such a great couple that I wanted to write a short story bringing them together. There will only be a few chapters, so review early and often. Thanks to WeasleyForMe for offering great suggestions and beta reading this story.

**Disclaimer:** All characters and setting references to Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling.

**Plus One**

_**Chapter 2: The First of Many Dances**_

The fall of Voldemort and the subsequent capture of his Death Eaters was truly an event to be celebrated. The Ministry of Magic hosted a ball that, while invitations were issued, was to be considered compulsory to those most closely involved in ending the war.

Harry and Hermione joined the Weasleys near the front of the banquet hall in seats of honor. Nearby were tables filled with members of the Order of the Phoenix, Hogwarts professors and recent graduates, and many people Hermione only knew from pictures or the earlier foray the trio made into the ministry when disguised.

Looking around, Hermione noticed that everyone seemed to be paired for the evening. Harry escorted Ginny as her date; she smiled as she watched the couple, they were finally happy together again. Although they kept it mostly to themselves, Ginny was the one to ask him to the ball, saving him from attending alone while working up the courage to approach her.

Ron, too, sat with his arm around Lavender Brown. The war had humbled her; it also gave him a greater appreciation for her attention and doting tendencies.

Hermione ignored the instructions that she should bring a date to accompany her for the evening. As she soon learned after several dances with clumsy, elderly ministry officials and overzealous younger men, attending alone was tantamount to inviting any and every eligible bachelor to push their unwanted affections toward you. Politeness dictated that she accept a certain number of requests, but her toes were sore from being stepped upon. And, the last bloke's breath was strong enough to fend away a dragon.

"Why can't they leave me alone?" Hermione rhetorically asked the table in exasperation as she finally managed to leave the dance floor.

"The invitation clearly stated that each recipient should be accompanied by a companion." Percy's pompous reply put him on the receiving end of several glares and an especially dirty look from Hermione. He was pulled away from the table by his girlfriend, Penny, before he could say any more.

"I should not be forced to bring someone just to fulfill some kind of obligation. Look at Fred and George, they came alone."

"We purposely came alone," Fred began.

"Right you are Gred. We enjoy the attention of these lovely single ladies." George waggled his eyebrows suggestively before turning his attention to a beautiful blonde passing the table. "And, I think I'd like some of _her_ attention."

The others soon followed George's lead to dance, leaving Hermione and Fred alone at their table. "Isn't there a blonde you'd like to be dancing with?" she asked not wanting him to feel obligated to keep her company.

"Nah . . they aren't really my type," he remarked casually. He caught Hermione's slight smile at his words, making him glad that George was the one with the affinity for blondes while he favored brunettes.

"I'm thirsty. Would you care for something to drink while I'm going?" Fred offered.

"Yes, please . . I'm parched from all of those dances earlier."

He raised his hand in acknowledgment as she called a soft "thank you" as he crossed the room.

She watched Fred walk away, his black dress robes making him look more sophisticated than she ever remembered him. His physique had changed over the last year; his shoulders were broader, but not so much so that they detracted from his tall appearance. He carried himself with the swagger that all of the Weasley men managed, reflecting confidence and strength.

During their year on the hunt for Voldemort's horcruxes, she pictured the younger and more ganglier Fred she saw at school as she imagined the expressions his face would hold at the words she was reading. Seeing him tonight, though, had her re-thinking the Fred she thought she knew.

Not wanting to be caught staring, Hermione averted her gaze. Unfortunately, she turned directly toward an on-coming man who held a determined look in his eye. Finding no polite way to avoid his overly-aggressive offer to dance, Hermione found herself being held tightly, too tightly in her opinion, as he steered them across the floor. His hand rested a little too low on her back, making her feel uncomfortable.

Fred returned to their table, alone with two cups of punch. George had tried to set him up a few minutes ago; apparently his leggy blonde had a cute friend who was looking for someone to dance with. Leaving his twin shaking his head in dismay, Fred went back to Hermione only to see that the table was empty.

His eyes sought Hermione; the indigo dress she was wearing made all others in the room pale in comparison so she should be easy to locate. It wasn't the dress that had captivated him, though. Hermione had transformed into a lovely woman during her time away. Her skin glowed with radiance, all traces of the hurt and malnourished girl laying at Shell Cottage gone. More than once tonight he berated himself for not asking her to the ball, as his date.

He scanned the dance floor until he saw the swish of the blueish-purple color darting between the other flowing skirts. Remembering how she felt about dancing with strangers, he set their cups down and made his way to her. Weaving in between the other couples, he began to pick up his pace when he saw Hermione with one hand behind her back, pulling at the man's hand and struggling to keep it from slipping down to her bum.

With a firm hand on the bloke's shoulder, he stepped between them. "I'm cutting in."

Hermione heard the authority in Fred's suddenly deep voice. She welcomed his protective stance and moved toward him quickly.

"What 'ya think you're doing? She was dancing with me first."

"But she's with me now." Taking her hand in his and settling the other high on her waist, he looked pointedly at her, "Hermione, dear, you know how jealous I get when I see you dancing with someone else."

"Of course Fred." She looked gratefully into his eyes before addressing the groping man, "You'll have to excuse us."

Fred put as much distance between them and the bloke who he very much wanted to duel as he could maneuver as they danced off in a different direction. He was breathing heavily, angry at the way Hermione had been treated.

Clearing his throat, he spoke softly to her, "Are you okay?"

She had to tilt her head in order to speak with something other than his chest. "You arrived just in time. I was this close," she took her hand from his shoulder to mime a small space between her thumb and forefinger, "to hexing him."

"Ah, so I saved you the trouble of being fined for attacking another wizard." The crooked smile was slowly replacing the scowl he'd worn since cutting in on her last dance.

Laughing gently, she agreed with him. "That's it exactly. The paperwork would have been very tedious."

They moved across the floor, carefully avoiding the other couples while maintaining the rhythm of their steps. After a moment, Hermione thanked him for rescuing her.

"Thank you for stepping in. That guy . . he even had the nerve to stare at . ." her hand left his shoulder again as she gestured at the area of her bare shoulders, " . . at . . my necklace."

Fred automatically looked down. "But you aren't wearing a necklace."

The innocent, confused expression on his face made him look so much younger. "I know," she answered with a raised brow.

His eyes darted back and forth between her face and her neck before they shifted lower. The red tint of the Weasley blush spread across his cheeks while his eyes widened. He hastily looked up, pointedly looking anywhere but her chest.

Hermione started to lead them when Fred's feet seemed to be stuck to the ground. "He was a jerk, but he's gone now."

When Fred kept staring at some spot above her head, she huffed. "You can look at me, you know. I just didn't appreciate being ogled by some stranger."

Taking the lead back from her, he willed his face to return to normal as he lowered his eyes to meet hers again. To lighten the mood that was on the verge of becoming uncomfortable, he said, "I think I need to update our 'I never' list."

She knew he was baiting her, but she played along anyway. "Is that so? And which part do you intend to revise?"

"_I've never saved a damsel in distress._"

She laughed at his posh tone. "Yes, I believe you do. I was certainly saved tonight."

Fred basked in her laughter, pleased with himself at causing the melodic sound.

It wasn't long until the music ended. Not willing to let her go, he offered his bent arm and escorted her back to their table. Determined to be the gentleman she deserved, he pulled out her chair and held it while she was seated.

He _saved_ her several more times as she was approached by wizards she barely recognized let alone knew. She, in turn, _saved_ him from a cougar who was determined to drag him onto the dance floor.

By the end of the night, Hermione was exhausted as she settled into her bed. Spending the evening with Fred had been wonderful, and she wasn't quite ready for it to end. She withdrew the Twin Paper from her bed side table and began to write.

_Thank you for tonight. You helped to make a miserable evening into one that I truly enjoyed. I noticed that you haven't amended the 'I never' list. Haven't forgotten, have you? - Hermione_

_Some of us take longer in the shower than others . . I was just about to cross it out. There. Done. I'm glad you had a good time tonight. It was certainly better than most Ministry functions George and I have attended in the past. Maybe we can do this again sometime . . . - Fred_


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary:** Finding a date shouldn't be too difficult for Hermione, heroine of the war, and Fred, fun-loving and famous in his own right. Yet, the two fall into a pattern of relying on each other to fulfill the 'plus one' requirement on the invitations they receive.

**Author's Note:** _Thanks to those of you who have reviewed and added this to your story alerts/favorites! You're awesome! _Fred and Hermione are such a great couple that I wanted to write a short story bringing them together. There will only be a few chapters, so review early and often. Thanks to WeasleyForMe for offering great suggestions and beta reading this story.

**Disclaimer:** All characters and setting references to Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling.

**Plus One**

_**Chapter 3: Invitations**_

Molly Weasley created a new tradition for their family when the war ended. Every Sunday, all seven of her children, Harry, and Hermione came to the Burrow for lunch. The matriarch knew there would be inevitable absences and that, eventually, they would only come home when it was convenient. But, in the wake of the war, her desire to keep family as close as possible caused her to exert a small amount of authority that kept her house full for one afternoon a week.

Another way she enticed her kids (which included all nine of them) to make regular dinner appearances was by posting a weekly menu on the front of the cupboard after their Sunday lunch. She was in no way inconspicuous about it; every night was someone's favorite meal so this ensured that the house would have more hungry stomachs and empty mouths to feed.

This Sunday was very much like the last few, except that Bill wasn't alone. The addition of Fleur, who had recently returned from visiting her parents in France, caused a bit of re-situating and shifting to make room for everyone. And Mrs. Weasley couldn't have been more pleased.

Hermione and Ginny were among the last to sit down, having taken it upon themselves to help bring the food to the table. As she placed the large platter in the center of the table, Hermione was mentally scrambling to find a solution to the sudden overcrowding. If she went to her regular seat between Ron and Bill, she would have to sit in Fleur's lap. The other side of the table was full, too, with Charlie, Fred, George, and Percy spread wide apart with their elbows flared out to allow plenty of room to attack their food.

Fred watched Hermione's eyes quickly darting around the chairs as she made several trips from the counter to bring additional dishes to the table. It took him a moment, but he realized what she was looking for. As discretely as possible for a Weasley twin, he tried to make room for Hermione to sit beside him.

"Oi, Forge . . I bet you can't make it 'til dessert without getting a hand stabbed by Charlie's fork."

George scoffed at the easy challenge. "I may have lost my left ear to the war, but I don't intend to lose my left _hand_ at home. You've got yourself a deal."

As the two shook hands, Fred shifted his weight and began to push George down the bench seat closer to Charlie. "Wouldn't want it to be too easy, would we?"

The weight shifted slightly on the bench as Hermione sat between Fred and Percy in the space he'd just made for her. They shared a look as she settled in before she murmured "thanks."

With a wink, he replied, "No problem."

Lunch at the Burrow evolved into relaxing in the lounge before an evening Quidditch match near the orchard. Mr. Weasley dozed with his mouth slightly open in his worn recliner. Ron and Percy were playing wizard's chess while several others tried to 'coach' them; the poor game pieces were wearing themselves out trying to move in several directions at once. Harry and Ginny managed to disappear when the others were distracted, sneaking upstairs while Mrs. Weasley's back was turned.

Fred sprawled out on the couch with his feet dangling off of the side, leaving just enough room for Hermione to sit at the other end. He watched her for a few moments as she flipped through one of his mum's magazines. From the constant turning of the pages, he knew she couldn't be too interested in the articles inside. Leaning precariously close to the edge, he saw the _Quibbler_ logo written upside down and immediately understood why she finished the magazine in only a few minutes.

"Any new Humdinger sightings?"

"Any what?" she asked, puzzled at his random question.

Nodding toward the discarded periodical, he grinned at her. "Hmm . . what about Shnorkleops then? Or maybe the rare non-venomous Dapits?"

His mischievous grin coupled with his questions were too much for her. She lightly pushed his leg closest to her, nudging it further off of the couch as her laughter bubbled forth. A few heads from across the room turned in their direction hoping to see what was so funny before resuming the game.

"Shnorkleops . . and Dapits . . have you been talking to Luna again?" she managed to ask as she caught her breath, only to stutter as the remnants of her earlier laughter remained.

There was her laugh again. Why he was drawn to it he couldn't explain, but it made him inordinately happy to have caused it. "No, I was just commenting on your _scholarly_ reading material."

She snorted at his choice of words, slapping her hand across her mouth and nose a second too late to muffle the noise.

This time it was Fred who interrupted the chess game with his sounds. The two were oblivious to the smirks the other Weasleys shared as they pretended to ignore the couple sitting on the couch.

When he composed himself a little more, Fred sat up and moved closer to Hermione so he could talk more easily with her.

"How did you like the view from the other side of the table? I know you'll be seeing far less handsome faces across from you, but the neighbors are certainly more entertaining."

"View from the other side, huh . . well, you're absolutely right about the faces across the table. I now have Ron gorging himself in my direct line of sight." She shuddered at the thought.

"And the neighbors?" Fred asked, fishing for a reaction from her.

"Well, Percy was alright . . ." Hermione teased as she cut her eyes at him to see him looking directly at her.

"Yeah, Perce has the best table manners of us all I guess."

"Hmm," she sounded non-committally. "But, yeah, I did enjoy the 'neighbor' to my left."

Fred puffed out his chest, exaggerating the compliment she had given him. He enjoyed lunch as well. Since their side of the table was more cramped, he ended up sitting much closer to her than he did George. He noticed she maneuvered herself in his direction, rather than Percy's, too.

"Hey," he began, bumping his shoulder into hers, "you should stop by the shop sometime. I have a few surprises to show you."

"You do? And are these surprises going to change my hair color or make me break out in spots?"

"Nope," he chuckled at her defensive questioning.

"And nothing that will attack me when I walk into the store?"

He could tell she was more amused than actually worried, but he issued the next challenge anyway. "You're not afraid to come to the shop, are you?"

She played along, acting appropriately affronted at the mere thought of her cowardice. "Me? Afraid? You must have forgotten that you're talking to the woman who flew a blind dragon out of the depths of the Gringotts maze."

It was his turn to snort this time. "Flew . . I thought it was more like 'held on for dear life'."

"I'll remember it however I want," she said, trying not to admit just how true his statement was, but joining in his laughter all the same.

"Alright, alright . . but you still need to come by. I've made some great things and I want to show them to you."

Not knowing that their earlier late night discussions had impacted his inventions, she couldn't understand why this seemed so important to him. But she was flattered that he had extended the invitation.

"Let me know later what day would be good."

"Will do."

Later that night, after Fred had returned to the flat above Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes and Hermione settled into the room she'd been using at the Burrow, they began their nightly Twin Paper conversation. She agreed to visit the shop on Thursday since she would already be in Diagon Alley on that day.

The last note she received from him kept her up wondering how much she should read into his invitation.

_I have a favor to ask of you. On Thursday night, George and I have to attend a small dinner for Wizarding Britain's Better Business Bureau. I am supposed to bring a date; actually the invitation reads 'Mr. Fred Weasley and guest'. And, well, I was hoping you could come with me. You and I both remember the consequences for attending the Ministry ball alone and I'm hoping to avoid the 'cougars' as you so appropriately named them. Don't answer tonight. Sleep on it. - Fred_

Deciding that regardless of his intentions, she would accompany Fred as he had helped her the other night, Hermione wrote a small note on her Twin Paper the next morning.

_Of course I'll go with you. I'm happy to fulfill the role of 'Mr. Fred Weasley's guest'. I have to tell you, though, that I am missing your mum's spaghetti night to help you. - Hermione_

Fred's immediate reply was very unexpected.

_You would give up spaghetti night for me? I am definitely indebted to you for such a sacrifice (I know it's your favorite - mine, too). But, not to worry. George and I never rely on the catering for these dinners. Just in case the food is too bad, we always eat at home first. Let's meet at the Burrow for spaghetti and then we'll leave from there. - Fred_

This story is becoming much longer than expected! Thanks for following along and I hope you enjoyed this enough to review! ~Clover


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary:** Finding a date shouldn't be too difficult for Hermione, heroine of the war, and Fred, fun-loving and famous in his own right. Yet, the two fall into a pattern of relying on each other to fulfill the 'plus one' requirement on the invitations they receive.

**Author's Note:** Fred and Hermione are such a great couple that I wanted to write a short story bringing them together. There will only be three chapters, so review early and often. Thanks to WeasleyForMe for offering great suggestions and beta reading this story.

**Disclaimer:** All characters and setting references to Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling.

**Plus One**

_**Chapter 4: First Date of Sorts**_

On Thursday morning, Hermione found Weasley's Wizard Wheezes to be teaming with customers peering into the brightly colored shop window displays and roaming throughout the aisles. The shelves were filled to the brim, automatically replacing purchased stock as it entered the shopping baskets. Tall figures in magenta robes could be seen standing slightly above the customers, easily observing the store and able to help a customer at a moment's notice.

Since they were so busy, Hermione allowed herself to look at the merchandise - really look at it for the first time. When she visited before the war, she had been so skeptical of the twins' endeavors that she easily overlooked the skill and craftsmanship that went into the inventions. The charms and ingenuity were a marvel to her.

Fred caught her staring intently at some of the products, so he leaned over her shoulder and asked, "See something you like?"

She jumped at his unexpected appearance, his breath tickling her ear with his words. "Don't sneak up on me," she scolded but relented when he gave her his best quirky little smile.

"I see you've found our new and improved skiving snack boxes."

"The boxes do look different than I remember."

"Ah, it's not just the packaging that's changed. Instead of two bites of the nougat - one for the illness and one for the cure - we've transformed them into time release candies so you don't have to try to swallow the remedy if you're still ill."

She was very impressed, and said as much. "That's . . that . . well you've solved the only hiccup with the snack boxes."

Fred snapped his fingers at her comment. "We've added that, too," he said with excitement. "Hiccupping capsules. They don't provide the long-term escape, but they easily get most of our customers out of class for a few minutes of good mischief."

With a look of wonderment, she said, "You've thought of everything."

"It wasn't just me, or even me and George. But I'll explain in a few minutes."

"Are these new?" she asked, pointing to a whirling, neon green display next to the decoy detonators.

He put a hand over the center of his chest with a look of disbelief on his face. "What's this? _Prefect _Granger doesn't recognize the very items she banned on the second day of school? Tsk, tsk."

She squinted at the display again before recognition flashed across her face. "Those . . those . . are the . . ." Shaking her head she said, "And you're still selling them."

"Yep."

"Well, I can say that I appreciate their magic much more since I'm not watching out for the first years." Her smile was genuine and it made Fred's heart beat a little faster.

"I'm glad you stopped by." Taking her hand, he led her toward the front of the store near the counter.

Hermione's hand felt nice nestled in his larger one. Looking up, she couldn't help but notice how much taller he seemed. The night that they danced, she knew he was marginally taller than her; but now she had to stay a step behind him so she wouldn't get a crick in her neck from tilting it back so far.

Tugging lightly on his hand, she asked, "Is this some kind of optical illusion? You'll have to duck to go through the door frame."

Nodding his head toward the stock room door, he continued to lead them away from the busy front of the shop. He waiting to answer her question until the customers could no longer hear them.

"This," he said while stepping backwards through the door and returning to his normal height as he crossed the threshold, "is my latest invention. Rather it is _our_," he gestured between the two of them, "newest invention."

At her puzzled expression, he went on to explain how the long, midnight discussions the two of them had while she was away helped him to create new things for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. The improvements to the skiving snack boxes were inspired by the muggle headache medicine she mentioned taking when they didn't have the potions ingredients available.

On and on he went, finding samples from their stock and describing at least a dozen items before he released her hand and raised his arms for her to peruse his robes. "These have helped us the most around here. George, Verity, and I just put these on and walk onto the sales floor and we are instantly elevated in height so that we can see above the shelves and monitor the store more closely."

Hermione thought the idea was brilliant. Not only would Fred and the others be able to help their customers, but it would detract shoplifters if they could be easily seen.

Fred had given her credit for each of the other items; however, she couldn't see how she influenced this particular one. "What did I do to help with the robes?"

"One of the things you mentioned in almost all of your notes was that you wished you could see above the trees or over the tent without walking around it. I figured that we could all use a bit more height every now and then."

Hermione was tempted to part his robes to see if his legs actually elongated or if the platforms of his shoes grew, but she had a little self restraint. She felt her face heat up at the thought of what he might or might _not_ be wearing beneath his work robes.

He didn't know what was going through her mind. The blush staining her cheeks and the way her eyes were looking him over gave his ego a boost, though, and he managed a cocky grin when she finally made eye contact again.

Turning away, she grasped for something to say that didn't involve his robes. "Oh! I meant to ask you earlier, but it slipped my mind. I need to go to Gringotts but I'm not sure how welcomed I'll be. I was wondering if you would go with me and . . maybe . . um, take care of the transaction."

The uncertain tone revealed how nervous she really was about going back to the bank. Wanting to put her mind at ease and eager to spend more time with her, he quickly agreed. "I'd be happy to. Just let me tell George that I'm taking a break and we'll head out."

Having removed his magenta robes, Fred returned to his normal height and escorted Hermione to Gringotts before they parted.

OoOoOoO

Fred and George were the only two at Spaghetti night who didn't live at the Burrow. It worked out just as well at the table, having only three people on each side. Mrs. Weasley hugged both twins heartily as soon as they arrived.

When Hermione saw the dark charcoal grey robes Fred took off before sitting down to dinner and the slacks and button down shirt he wore, she felt the butterflies flitting around in her stomach. He was just as handsome as the other night, only more professional looking and less formal.

He rolled his sleeves up to keep them away from the sauce on his plate. She had never noticed the way his muscles contracted in his forearms or the apparent strength of his hands. Without realizing it, dinner was half over and she had hardly touched her plate.

While she tucked in to her spaghetti, Fred and George were debating on whether or not they had time for dessert. Deciding that they could stop back by the Burrow later if the catering was too bad, they finished their own dinners and wiped their plates clean.

Fred helped Hermione with her midnight blue robes after donning his own. He let his fingers linger on her shoulders a little longer than was necessary.

"You look very nice tonight." His compliment was whispered for her ears only.

She was glad she took the sales witch's advice earlier this afternoon. She wanted to look nice, but had no idea what one normally wore to this type of function.

The one person who really mattered said that he liked her dress and robes, and that was enough.

"Thank you. You look very dashing, too." Her hands, almost of their own volition, reached up to straighten his collar.

Offering his arm, they followed George outside to apparate.

The banner inside the hall boldly welcomed them all to Wizarding Britain's Better Business Bureau bi-annual meeting. The witch sitting at a sign-in table asked their names without bothering to look up.

"Mr. Fred Weasley and guest," he said while winking at Hermione.

Hermione's smiled as she took her sticky name tag and read the name 'Guest' written in large letters. "Fred, could you help me with this. I wouldn't want it to be crooked in case someone can't remember my name."

He looked up from putting on his own name tag. "Really? You're going to be 'guest' all night long? Well, we can't have that." Taking out his wand he altered the letters to now read 'Mr. Fred Weasley's Guest'.

"Much better, Fred. The four word title is much more fitting." She rolled her eyes at his antics before using her wand to change it again.

"Plus One. Brilliant Hermione. Now you'll really stand apart from the other 'guests'." Tapping his finger against his lips, he stared at the badge before waving his wand one final time.

_Mr. F. Weasley's Plus One_

"If you two are about finished staring at each others' chests, we can find our seats now." George's blunt humor brought a quick end to their name tag issues.

They found themselves seated at a table with several older wizards who looked as if they were up past their bedtimes. The food was tasteless and in very small portions. Hermione was thankful that Fred had the foresight to have dinner at the Burrow beforehand.

The meeting itself was downright dull. George spent the evening flirting with a witch at a nearby table while Fred and Hermione whispered their own versions of conversations taking place at other tables. He insisted on the high-pitched women's voices because 'they're more fun' than the men's. They were so caught up in their own little world, that they almost missed the only announcement Fred and George cared about hearing.

"Please join me in applauding our New Businessmen of the Year, Misters Fred and George Weasley."

Fred and George strode to the front of the meeting hall to accept their plaques. Hermione clapped loudly at this unexpected surprise. He hadn't mentioned anything about their award beforehand.

When they returned to the table, the meeting had been dismissed but Hermione wasn't ready for the night to end. Hugging Fred tightly, she said, "We have to celebrate. Let me take you out for dessert. My treat."

He breathed in the raspberry aroma of her hair as it tickled his nose. Hermione was holding onto him, her body fitting nicely against his. She had asked him something and looked as though she was waiting for an answer but his thoughts had overwhelmed his sense of hearing. He nodded, which seemed to be the right thing to do as she smiled more brightly and took his arm to leave.

They sat in a small all-night diner, having dessert and talking until late into the night.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary:** Finding a date shouldn't be too difficult for Hermione, heroine of the war, and Fred, fun-loving and famous in his own right. Yet, the two fall into a pattern of relying on each other to fulfill the 'plus one' requirement on the invitations they receive.

**Author's Notes:** _The response to this story has been overwhelming! Thank you so much for the lovely reviews and numerous favorites/alerts._

Fred and Hermione are such a great couple that I wanted to write a short story bringing them together. There will only a few chapters, so review early and often. Thanks to WeasleyForMe for offering great suggestions and beta reading this story.

**Disclaimer:** All characters and setting references to Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling.

**Plus One**

_**Chapter 5: Ordinary Wednesday**_

The summer months flew by, keeping Fred and Hermione incredibly busy. Sometimes an entire week would pass before they saw one another at Mrs. Weasley's Sunday family lunches. They gravitated toward the other, though, as if no time had passed, talking on the couch for so long that Fred once forgot about the Quidditch match and had to race to the orchard to make it in time to play.

In the middle of the summer, Hermione's parents had returned from Australia and were getting assimilated back into their old lives. This, along with preparing to take her NEWTs at the Ministry, occupied much of her time.

Attending her seventh year at Hogwarts was something she had absolutely no desire to do. Aside from not wanting to relive the traumatic events she witnessed on the school grounds every day, the pull of freedom she experienced over the last year was too liberating to abandon. While she completely understood the need for the strict policies enforced by the professors and their chosen prefects, she had lived outside of that world for too long to conform anymore.

Fred supported her decision. Having felt the tug of life outside of school before he finished all seven years, he could empathize with her. Throughout their notes and Sunday conversations, though, he kept the position of a sounding board without trying to push her in one direction or another. He knew that the decision had to be one she was comfortable with; otherwise, if she regretted it, he would forever be tied to that fateful choice.

On a seemingly ordinary Wednesday afternoon, Fred and George took turns counting inventory in the stock room since the day was so slow. Like clockwork, this day of the week could always be expected to have very few customers. Kids who earned a little pocket money over the weekend had already stopped by earlier in the week, and those who didn't get paid until Friday hadn't yet been received their money.

Fred happened to be at the counter when the chimes above the door echoed loudly, banging against the door several times since the door had been opened with so much force.

"I've got them! I've got them! Fred!" Hermione came barreling toward him, weaving around the displays to avoid bumping into them.

He didn't even know why she was so excited, but her smile was infectious. "Hey, what's gotten you so excited?"

Hermione waved what appeared to be a Ministry of Magic form letter in her hand. "I just got my NEWT scores! All E's!"

She was bouncing on her toes and it looked like she was using all of her self restraint not to start jumping up and down.

"Whoop!" he yelled as he lifted her up into a smothering, congratulatory hug. He twirled her around, watching as she leaned her head back, laughing in happiness.

"Gred, did someone knock over the tickling powder again?" George asked as he emerged from the back room when he heard the laughter and commotion. He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw his twin and Hermione literally wrapped up in each other.

"I'll just double check that powder, eh," he mumbled as he left them to themselves.

Fred set her back down. "That's great. I knew you would do well. No doubt at all."

"I just got them. I haven't told anybody else yet, but I wanted to show them to you."

"Not even your parents?" he asked, gobsmacked that she came to him first.

She shook her head no. "I'm planning to stop there next. I just . . didn't want to write about this. I wanted to tell you in person."

Her smile was more controlled now; a faint blush crept into her cheeks but she maintained eye contact as she stood before him.

Fred thought she looked beautiful with her hair wind-blown and the rosy color brightening her face. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to pull her back to him and capture her lips, kissing her into oblivion.

Not knowing how she would react, though, he reached for her free hand, squeezing it gently. "We have to celebrate. Let me take you to dinner." His statement had the inflection of a question as his eyes searched hers for an answer.

Biting her lip, she nodded in agreement. "That would be great. I have to tell my parents . . ." she hesitated a moment before continuing, "would you like to go with me . . or, um, should we meet up later?"

"He'll be happy to go with you, won't you?" George had rejoined them. Raising his wand, he changed the letters on the 'open' sign to 'closed'. "We're done 'round here anyway."

"Thanks, mate." Fred released her hand to clap his twin on the shoulder and walk toward the stock room. "Just let me change my robes," he called over his shoulder before disappearing. He came back eight inches shorter, carrying his robes rather than wearing them.

He knew that Hermione's parents lived in muggle London so he didn't want to draw undue attention to himself. Besides, Hermione wasn't wearing robes and he wanted to follow her lead.

The trip to the Grangers' home took very little time. Hermione apparated them directly into the back yard. She dropped her hand from his arm but fell short of releasing him by continuing to hold his hand.

"Come on . . ."

Sitting across from Hermione two hours later, Fred couldn't believe how well his ordinary Wednesday had turned out. He raised his glass in a toast, "Congratulations on the highest NEWT scores anyone could ever hope to get."

"What's next for you?" Fred asked after he set his glass down.

"Now that I have my NEWT scores, I'm hoping to hear from the Ministry. I applied for a position with the Unspeakables."

"And that'll be the last I hear about your job, right?" He asked while giving her that quirky little smile that sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

"_If_ I'm offered a job. But, until then, I'm just a free drifter." She smirked as she remembered the peace the last few weeks had afforded.

Their waiter came by the table, again, to see if he could get them anything else.

"I think that's our cue to leave."

Neither had noticed the restaurant closing around them. They were the only patrons left in the entire place, with a small group of employees standing near the kitchens with their cloaks draped over their arms.

"Wow, I didn't realize we'd been here so long." Hermione glanced at her watch, shocked to see the late hour.

Fred guided her to the door with his hand resting lightly on the small of her back. The intimate gesture wasn't lost on either of them.

Outside, Fred offered her his arm as they walked to the apparition point. She snuggled closer to him, gripping his arm a little tighter. The feel of his outer robe reminded her of a muggle suit coat or tuxedo jacket. The material had body to it that tempted her to lean into his shoulder, which she did after a moment of inner debate.

She smelled the faint, lingering smell of the fires used in the shop's brewing room. The aroma of his aftershave also clung to the garment; a clean fragrance that was very alluring. Hermione tried to place the scent, but she had been near him so much that it reminded her inherently of 'Fred'. She couldn't compare it to anything else.

She tilted her head up to find him staring back at her. The intensity of his gaze made her shiver in anticipation.

He saw her tongue peek out, moistening her lips. He imitated the movement, realizing his earlier impulse to kiss her hadn't been a fleeting thought. His eyes roamed her face, taking in her lovely skin before returning to her pink lips.

He lifted his left hand, using only his fingertips to brush away a loose curl, tucking it behind her petite ear.

Hermione wondered if her heartbeat was as loud to him as it was to her. It was strumming so hard against her chest, it was the only thing she could hear.

"Hey!" she suddenly screamed, alarmed at the burly man who had just knocked into her.

With a forceful shove, Fred pushed the bloke away from them.

The drunken man slurred some kind of greeting before ambling down the road.

Neither of them realized they had stopped near the apparition point. It had been their destination, but it came upon them so quickly.

With a frustrated sigh, Fred extended his arm and brought them back to the Burrow. Any hopes of a private 'goodnight' were dashed at the sight of Harry and Ron polishing off the last of the apple pie.

_Thank you for a wonderful night. I hope it wasn't too much extra work for George since you left early. -Hermione_

_Nah, don't worry about George. I've helped him too many times to count. I'm glad you chose to share your good news with me. I've never seen so many 'E's in my entire life. George and I couldn't earn that many together! Seriously, though, congratulations. I know you'll have no trouble getting that job with the Unspeakables. - Fred _

_You do wonders for my ego. I think I'll keep hanging around with you. I, um, have a favor to ask. My parents and I received an invitation to attend a reunion of sorts with our extended - extended family. These are people who don't know that I'm a witch or really recognize me as someone other than David and Elizabeth's daughter. I was hoping you could accompany me. We wouldn't have to stay too long, but I need to go and would love to have your company. - Hermione_

_Let me know the date so George and I can plan our summer party for later that day. Then you'll have an excuse to leave early. That means you'll have to accompany _me_, though. - Fred_

_You are very clever, Fred Weasley. Goodnight. - Hermione_


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary:** Finding a date shouldn't be too difficult for Hermione, heroine of the war, and Fred, fun-loving and famous in his own right. Yet, the two fall into a pattern of relying on each other to fulfill the 'plus one' requirement on the invitations they receive.

**Author's Note:** In my haste to finish the last chapter, I inadvertently gave Hermione all Exceeds Expectations rather than Outstandings on her NEWT scores. I've updated the chapter, but the site's not cooperating and letting the changes appear; it'll get fixed eventually. Anyway, let's assume that the scores were 'O's and that she's about to be accepted as one of the newest Unspeakables.

**Disclaimer:** All characters and setting references to Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling.

**Plus One**

_**Chapter 6: News**_

_Ms. Hermione Granger,_

_We, at the Department of Mysteries, are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into our department and extend an invitation for you to join us as an Unspeakable. It wouldn't be prudent to discuss further details concerning your new position without meeting first. We look forward to seeing you on Monday, in two weeks time._

_Sincerely,_

_Edgar Pemberly_

Hermione re-read her acceptance letter again. Earlier this morning, a ministry owl delivered the much anticipated job offer. She had grabbed the first person she could find, Mrs. Weasley, hugging her and squealing in excitement. It took a few minutes for Hermione to calm down enough to explain why she was accosting her.

When she did, Mrs. Weasley initiated the next round of hugs and congratulations. Having seen Hermione watching the skies day and night since she received her NEWT scores and asking Arthur over supper if he had heard anything at the ministry, Molly understood how much she was looking forward to being an Unspeakable.

Errol the Weasley's aging family owl had been sent to the shop, asking if Fred would come to the Burrow for dinner tonight. Hermione wanted to tell him the good news in person, so she kept the letter short and very vague. It was at times like this that she wished the Twin Paper could be used without interrupting his work day instead of relying on the old owl.

Fred replied that, while he couldn't remember what was on the menu for tonight, he and George would be there as soon as they closed the shop.

Now, she was helping Mrs. Weasley set the table. The distinctive 'pop' of apparition was heard, followed quickly by an almost simultaneous 'pop'.

"Is it time to eat or did we beat dad home?" George had flung his robes in the direction of the coat rack without waiting to see whether it landed on the floor or not. He started rubbing his hands together and looking over the table, clearly starving as all Weasley men were at meal time.

"No, dear, your father's still at the Ministry. But I expect him home . . ." Mrs. Weasley paused to take a peak at her family clock, " . . any minute now."

A third 'pop' sounded and George rushed off to wash up and collect the others upstairs.

Fred, meanwhile, immediately found Hermione and caught her subtle head nod to follow her to the living room.

Hermione wanted to tell him her good news without just blurting it out.

"Do you remember when we talked about me finding my own place and moving out of the Burrow?" Hermione asked as nonchalantly as possible.

Fred wasn't fooled one bit. The sparkle in her eyes and the way she was biting her lip was a dead give-away that she had something important to tell him. "Yeah. You said you only wanted to move your things once, so you were waiting until you found a job."

"Well . . I'm ready to start looking for a place of my own." Her beaming smile and the hasty invitation could only mean one thing.

"You got the job? You're an Unspeakable?!"

"Yes!"

He caught her as she jumped into an excited hug. It was so exuberant that he lifted her feet off of the floor, holding her tightly in his arms so she wouldn't fall.

In what began as a hug, spurred on by excitement and the congratulations on a lofty goal obtained, changed. She slid down, her feet landing directly between his. Her arms were still draped around his neck and his were on her back, one resting low on the small of her back while the other was rubbing slowly between her shoulders.

The sparkle in her eyes changed into something more, a heated look that shifted between his eyes, down to his mouth, and back again.

Leaning down, he slowly brought his face closer to hers; he saw her eye lashes flutter and could feel her breath quicken, her tongue peeking out again to lick her lips. The faint smell of the raspberry lotion she wore faded as his lips met hers. His senses were consumed by the feel of her soft lips against his and her feminine figure pressed to his chest.

For Hermione, this kiss, as chaste as it was, quite possibly could have been the best kiss she'd ever received. She hadn't planned it, but it felt anything but rushed. The lingering feel of his lips and his strong hands holding her made her pull him in closer until there was no room left between their bodies.

The kiss broke, leaving them quiet for a moment. The tug of a smile on her face, the unspoken promise of future kisses, had him smiling, too. He gave her a wink that he would now reserve for her alone which brought the soft stain of blush to her cheeks.

Fred hadn't realized that she had raised herself up to meet him until he felt her slide again, lowering off of her tip toes. His hand still lingering at her waist made brief contact with the skin there as her shirt shifted; he rubbed his thumb gently.

"Dinner time," George yelled from just inside the doorway, breaking the silence. His back was already facing them, signaling that he had already walked in on them before turning.

"Your mum is probably waiting for us."

"We shouldn't keep them waiting." His statement was as much for his own ears as it was directed toward her.

She took a step back from him, breaking their contact and moving toward the kitchen. "Come on," she said quietly.

"Yes, I suppose you have good news to share." He could tell by the way her face lit up that she had just remembered her new job. A surge of pride soared through him at having such an affect on her.

"Sorry to make you wait," Hermione said by way of apology as she smiled at Mrs. Weasley.

"That's quite alright, dear."

"I have good news . . I got my acceptance letter today from the Department of Mysteries. I'm going to be an Unspeakable."

They all broke out in rounds of congratulations at her announcement.

Mr. Weasley reached over, patting her on the back as he was sitting beside her. "I was wondering when the letter would arrive." The twinkle in his eyes was so mischievous and reminiscent of his sons when they were being sneaky.

"You knew?" Hermione asked. His only reply was a soft chuckle.

"That's great. Maybe we'll hear from the Ministry soon about the Auror program," Ron said while motioning toward Harry with his fork filled with food.

Hermione snuck a look at Mr. Weasley, seeing that same twinkle in his eyes at Ron's comment and she knew. Ron and Harry would be receiving letters very similar to hers soon.

Over the next week, Hermione looked at half a dozen flats before she found the one that was perfect for her. It was small, having only one bedroom, but it was cozy and exactly what she was looking for. The living room had plenty of space for several pieces of furniture so that her friends could visit and be comfortable. The kitchen, well she liked to think of it as 'space-saving'; as her mother would say, things were always at hand and within reach.

Her mum and dad insisted on helping their little girl get settled into her first place of her own. Her mum stocked the refrigerator and the pantry while her dad connected all of the electronics and hid their wires as much as possible.

The greatest feature of her new flat was that it was in the residential version of the Leaky Cauldron: both muggles and wizards inhabited the area making it receptive to modern technology and magic. Her parents could stop by as well as her Weasley family and friends.

Sitting alone in her newly furnished living room, Hermione had just closed her eyes to rest after their busy moving day when she heard a knock on the door.

"Fred," she pulled the door open allowing him into her new flat. "Let me give you the grand tour." She exaggerated the 'grand' part as she knew it would take very little time to show him the few rooms.

"It's very nice and so . . so . . you," he finished somewhat sheepishly.

"Thank you. It feels like I have so much freedom. I've missed that."

"I know what you mean. That's the way I feel at the flat above the shop - no one waiting up for me to return, the clothes hamper too full sometimes, mid-night snacks whenever I feel the urge."

She laughed kindly at his idea of freedom. But, she completely understood. While she wasn't ready to abandon all of the Weasley nightly suppers, she certainly looked forward to a schedule that was distinctly her own, wearing her pajamas to breakfast, and not having to worry about how she was dressed in any part of the flat. For a moment, her mind wandered to Fred and what he wore _or didn't_ at his flat.

Fred interrupted her thoughts. "I brought something for you. It's nothing big, but I wanted you to have it."

Extending his hand, he offered her a magazine. When she gave him a puzzled look, he explained.

"When George and I were kids, our favorite 'inside' toys were our building blocks. But, after Ron was born, he would just bump into our towering blocks and laugh when he knocked them over.

"So we started stacking them onto mum's coffee table. Ron couldn't reach them and they seemed taller since they were off of the floor.

"Anyway, one day we needed more room and I asked mum why there was so much stuff in the way. She told me that every witch who has her own house and a coffee table needs to have magazines to put on it.

"I'm not sure why that stuck with me, but it did. She might have even said it without thinking, but every time I see that old coffee table, I remember.

"Now, you have a magazine for your own coffee table."

Fred looked so adorable with his hands stuffed into his pockets as he finished explaining his gift. Hermione was touched that he was so thoughtful.

"And she was right . . every witch needs one. Thank you." She carefully laid the latest issue of _Better Gnomes and Gardens_ on the still empty table before kissing his cheek.

He felt the Weasley blush heating up his face and felt the need to leave before he embarrassed himself.

"I know its getting late and you're probably tired from moving, so I'll go." He walked toward the door. "We're still going to that family thing, right? And then to the party?"

"Absolutely. I can't wait."

"Me neither. Goodnight." He stole a quick kiss before disapparating.

_Sorry for the delay in updating the story. I fully intended to update every day until the story was complete, but life got in the way. I plan to update again tomorrow and the next day, though. I have to give credit to WeasleyForMe for the awesome magazine name: 'Better Gnomes and Gardens'. Alright, enough of my rambling. It's review time . . . ~Clover _


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary:** Finding a date shouldn't be too difficult for Hermione, heroine of the war, and Fred, fun-loving and famous in his own right. Yet, the two fall into a pattern of relying on each other to fulfill the 'plus one' requirement on the invitations they receive.

**Author's Note:** _Thanks to those of you who have reviewed and added this to your story alerts/favorites! You're awesome! _Fred and Hermione are such a great couple that I wanted to write a short story bringing them together. There will only be a few chapters, so review early and often. Thanks to WeasleyForMe for offering great suggestions and beta reading this story.

**Disclaimer:** All characters and setting references to Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling.

**Plus One**

_**Chapter 7: Parties**_

Hermione cradled four sodas and two large sacks of take-away in her arms as she tried to balance them in order to open the door. One would think that with Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes so full of customers in the middle of the day that someone would notice her predicament. Leaning ever so slightly to the right and pushing her chin down onto the topmost drink, she heaved the door open with two fingers.

All three tall, magenta clad figures looked toward the door, but only one started in her direction. Rather than take a chance on dropping anything, she waited for Fred to relieve her of some of their lunch.

"This is a nice surprise. What brings you by today?" He had taken both bags and two of the drinks from her as they made their way to the counter.

"I'm only working half-days this week, to learn the ropes Mr. Pemberly said. So, I'm done by noon. I just thought I'd bring lunch for you guys."

He gave her a small wink, which gave him the soft pink reaction he was looking for. "This is perfect. The Hogwarts letters must have just gone out. We haven't had a break all morning."

"It's a little early for the supply lists, isn't it?"

"We thought so; but every headmaster, or headmistress in this case, makes their own routines I guess."

"You're probably right. And Professor McGonagall was always very organized."

Waving one of the orange sodas in her hand temptingly, Hermione asked, "You think since I brought food for George and Verity that they might let you have the first lunch break with me?"

Smiling and following the cold bottle with his eyes, he said, "Don't see why not. Give me a minute to tell them I'm going to the back." He made a bee-line for one then the other before picking the food up again and leading her to the stock room.

"Mmm, smells good. What are we having?" he asked with his hands already searching through the bags.

"Fish and chips, from the Leaky Cauldron. Hope that's alright."

"Perfect," he mumbled with a chip already in his mouth.

They soon had their paper wrappers spread out and were busy looking for a bottle opener.

"Hey Fred, got your wand?" Hermione asked mischievously as she twirled hers in her fingers.

"Cheeky witch." His grin made her laugh.

They talked while they ate, but Fred noticed that she was getting quieter the longer they sat there. He couldn't think of anything that had happened between them to cause her to be upset, and she _had_ brought him lunch.

"This," he began as he crumpled his empty paper into a ball, "was a fantastic idea. It really hit the spot."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it."

Hermione noticed the expectant look he gave her. She should have known that Fred would easily realize when she was worried about something. They had shared more in their Twin Paper conversations than product ideas and plans for the summer; they had grown closer more open about themselves.

"Do you remember when I invited you to go with me to my family's get-together?" she asked hesitantly.

A million thoughts ran through his mind; of course he remembered, he had been looking forward to spending that time with her. But now it sounded like she was about to change her plans or at least un-invite him. Not that this reunion was important to him, far from it. He wouldn't know anybody there except her.

Nodding in answer to her question, he listened as she continued.

"I don't want you to feel obligated to go . . I know you probably just agreed since I was your 'guest' at the Better Business Bureau dinner. It's just . . ugh!" Taking a deep breath, Hermione wanted to be more articulate. Poor Fred looked more confused than ever.

"Hermione," he interrupted, "when we started this 'plus one' thing, I went along with it because I wanted to get to know you better. Having you as my date has been nice." His voice was soft and calming. "But if you don't want to do this anymore," he swallowed audibly and leaned back in his chair, putting a small amount of distance between them, "I'll understand."

She extended her arm, taking his hand in hers. "No, that's not what I'm saying at all. I just want you to know what you're getting into. My family is nothing like yours.

"I'm not very close to any of them, except for my parents. None of them know I'm a witch so we never really had much in common; I'm not as pretty as any of my cousins, and they always picked on me when our parents were busy somewhere else. This reunion is going to be a disaster and I feel like I've dragged you into it. I don't know why I even agreed to go."

At the sight of her shining eyes, Fred squeezed the hand he now held. "You aren't that same little girl anymore," he began, relieved to know that he wasn't the cause of her unease, "and you've never had me by your side. I dare them to try anything." His mischievous smirk made her chuckle.

"Besides, all families have their weirdos. Look at ours, we had crazy Uncle Billius; he never left a family get-together with his pants on. And . . Aunt Muriel. Now she's a real character. Hmm . . let me see . . ." he said letting his eyes drift toward the ceiling as he thought of more examples. "Oh! We have Ron!"

Her hearty laugh made him smile in ernest.

"So, you're not trying to ditch me, right?"

"Absolutely not," she said with a smile.

"Good." He had leaned forward again, resting on his arms so that he was nearer to her.

She met him over their make-shift lunch table, in the briefest of kisses.

"We need you out here, Gred . . ." George trailed off at having interrupted them yet again.

"I'll be right there," Fred called to his retreating twin.

Turning back to Hermione, he told her, "By the way, you'd better wear something green to the party George and I are having. It'll be a long night otherwise."

Hermione quirked her brow at his cryptic message but made a mental note to find a green shirt anyway. "I'll get out of your way, then. Sounds like George really needs your help."

"Yeah, I'd better get out there. But don't let him fool you, he's just hungry and wants his lunch."

In the next week leading up to both the reunion and the twins' party, Hermione and Fred had few opportunities to spend together as they had at the shop.

Between their numerous obligations and the routines of real life, Hermione and Fred maintained their nightly correspondence with each other. The Twin Paper was comforting and welcoming as it capped off the end of each day. Fred took to scribbling notes throughout the day for product ideas, funny stories about some of the customers, and anything else he couldn't wait to tell Hermione.

She anticipated their evenings as well. Planning to write to Fred was something Hermione looked forward to each day. When the monotony of the paperwork that accompanied her normally challenging job or a department meeting that didn't end as she wanted would take their toll on her work day, she felt a tingle of excitement at the thought of 'talking' with Fred again at night. It would have been hard to describe that feeling if she had tried; the anticipation of their exchange would bring a smile to her face and make her heart beat a little faster

Finally the Saturday of both the Granger extended family reunion and Fred and George's party arrived. When Fred arrived at Hermione's flat, she couldn't take her eyes off of him. The khaki slacks and green shirt he was wearing fit him perfectly. His ginger hair was calling for her to run her fingers through it. It seemed that he grew more handsome each time they met for one of their 'dates.'

Realizing that she hadn't moved out of the doorway, she stepped aside and invited him in while she went to get her things. Little did she realize that Fred was having very similar thoughts about her.

He watched as she went into the back of the flat to find her purse. The green dress she wore stopped just above her knees, but when she walked it revealed a little more of her amazing legs. They were tone, yet feminine and looked so smooth. If this was the dress she wore when he asked her to wear something green, he'd be making that request more often.

"You look beautiful," he said, his voice deeper than usual.

"Thank you," she said shyly. Hearing compliments like that was so rare that she felt bashful when they were given.

"And you look very handsome." Her hand instinctively went to his neat collar, touching it lightly. He leaned slightly into her hand when it grazed his sensitive neck.

Clearing his throat, he took her hand as he said, "I think we'd better be going."

The reunion, thankfully, was fairly uneventful. Unless she was with her parents, many of the others didn't recognize her. Hermione told Fred that she was relieved to which he looked a little crestfallen. He pulled out a small stash of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes candies form his pocket, lamenting that he wouldn't have an opportunity to use them _today_. Today. He emphasized that word letting her know to beware of their use _tonight_.

"That wasn't too bad," Fred said once they returned to her flat.

"Nope. A little on the boring side which is more than I could have hoped for." She changed her shoes and freshened up before they left for the party.

"There was one person there I didn't mind, aside from you and your parents that is."

"Oh, yeah. And who would that be?"

"Aunt Frieda."

"Why?" Hermione wondered what her father's sister had done or said that had endeared her to Fred.

"It's her name. Lovely, don't 'cha think?" he said with a cheeky smile.

Hermione rolled her eyes; leave it to Fred to like any derivative of his name.

The party Fred and George threw was anything but boring, the complete opposite of today's very tame affair. It turned out that Lee was also involved in setting up this party and he was hosting it at his house. It was much bigger, so Fred said, than the twins' flat.

Hermione flinched as her ears were assaulted by the blaring music just inside the house. The silencing charms had worked so well outside that the onslaught of noise took her a few minutes to adjust to.

Fred grabbed her hand, leading her through the house until they found George and Lee. The two immediately stopped talking when she and Fred joined them. Hermione wondered if they had been the topic of the conversation, but didn't have time to dwell on it since Fred was introducing her to everyone that passed by.

She recognized most of the people; they were all in the years above her, but she knew of them. Of course she was well-known; she was impressed, though, that no one brought up anything they might have read about her during the war. It shouldn't have surprised her, but it seemed to happen when she least expected it.

"I'm going to get us something to drink . . be right back." Fred had his mouth close to her ear so that she could hear him. When she nodded, she felt his lips brush against the shell of her ear.

Alica Spinnet and Angelina Johnson joined Hermione as she waited for Fred to return. "I wish someone had told me to wear something green. I swear, if one more person pinches my bum I'm going to hex them," Alica said.

"Honestly, why don't you just transfigure something into another color?" Angelina couldn't understand why her friend couldn't just fix her little problem.

"Because the guys have a ward on the house. Eeek!" Setting her cup down, she turned and started walking away from them. "George Weasley! Just wait until I catch up with you!"

"What's going on? Fred 'suggested' that I wear something green, but I don't get it."

"Lee let me in on the secret; he said tonight's party would have the best parts of each holiday all rolled up into one party. The St. Patrick's day tradition of wearing green or getting pinched is just one of them." Angelina confided in Hermione.

"And just what else is happening tonight?" Hermione started asking but was interrupted by Fred and Lee joining them.

"So, Angie knows?" Fred asked Lee.

"Yup. I'm not trying to run this one away." Lee spoke of Angelina as if she wasn't standing right next to him. When he took her hand and led her away, Hermione and Fred shared a look before watching the couple retreat into the room with the music blaring.

"Thanks for the warning. Anything else I should be aware of?"

"Not yet." He winked before leading her into a dance.

Hermione had never had so much fun at a party. Without really knowing too many people, she became acquainted with them and soon found herself becoming friends with Fred's friends. Angelina in particular - it seemed that she and Lee were often joining them throughout the night.

She did find out a few other 'surprises' Fred, George, and Lee planned for the party. Sprigs of mistletoe hung from the doorways and light fixtures throughout the house. After finding out about the inclusion of holiday traditions, Hermione would have been disappointed if this particular Christmas one was excluded. Time after time, she got caught beneath one of them with Fred.

Her favorite, by far, was the midnight countdown and the mind blowing kiss Fred gave her. She was left breathless and clinging to his shoulders after they broke apart.

The night had certainly made them more comfortable around each other, and Hermione couldn't wait to find another 'plus one' invitation.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary:** Finding a date shouldn't be too difficult for Hermione, heroine of the war, and Fred, fun-loving and famous in his own right. Yet, the two fall into a pattern of relying on each other to fulfill the 'plus one' requirement on the invitations they receive.

**Author's Note:**_ The beginning of this chapter will move from the fall/September where the last chapter ended to the following spring near Easter/April. The jump in time is needed to move the story along, but the intermittent time will also be a part of this chapter._

**Disclaimer:** All characters and setting references to Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling.

**Plus One**

_**Chapter 8: Spring is in the Air**_

_Spring of the following year . . ._

Easter break for the students at Hogwarts finally ended today; with the Hogwarts Express leaving this afternoon, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes had been busy for much of the week-long break. Fred hadn't seen much of anyone outside of the shop, including Hermione. Tonight, though, they intended to make up for lost time by starting the weekend at Hermione's flat.

Hermione offered to make dinner at her place, spaghetti which was both of their favorites. She hadn't told Fred what she planned to make, wanting it to be a surprise. She had been scheduled to be off on Tuesday and had spent much of that morning at the Burrow learning from Mrs. Weasley exactly how to make her famous version of the Italian dinner.

Mrs. Weasley had generously shared the recipe with only two conditions: the first being that she only pass the recipe on to her own children, and the second that she and Fred still come by on the occasional spaghetti night at the burrow. The hug the two women shared after cooking all morning together made Hermione feel welcome in a way that she ever had, as if she was being accepted as much more than even the extended family status she held.

Fred apparated directly into Hermione's living room. Sometime during the nearly eight months he had been visiting her flat, Hermione had finally convinced him to skip the formality of knocking on the door. When she first asked him about it, he said his mum and dad had ingrained in him the idea that a wizard never presumed to be welcome in a witch's home.

She had gently argued that he was _invited_ and therefore welcome, but that she appreciated that he didn't materialize when she might be getting ready for a shower or doing something embarrassing like singing into her hairbrush.

"Hmm, and what else does the lovely Miss Granger do when no one else is around?" He hadn't even given her a chance to answer before keeping her mouth occupied with his kisses.

Since that time, though, Fred felt more comfortable and at home with Hermione at her flat.

Smelling the alluring aroma of spaghetti sauce cooking, Fred followed his nose into the kitchen. With her back to him, Hermione couldn't see that he was wearing that old green shirt that she liked so much.

He allowed his hands to mold themselves to the contour of her waist as he started kissing his way up her neck, pausing only to avoid her ponytail when she relaxed her body back into his.

"Something smells wonderful."

"Mmm, yes . . you do." Hermione's voice had taken on a velvety tone.

"I've missed you this week . . . what with the shop . . . and you working late shifts . . ." His words trailed off as his lips finally found hers.

A buzzing sound started coming from the kitchen counter they were now leaning against. "Mione . . I think . . the . . timer . ." Fred could barely form his words around their snogging, " . . is going off."

"No timer . . ." Hermione mumbled before redoubling her efforts to make up for the week's worth of kisses she had missed.

"Something's . . making noise."

Gone were the 'never been kissed' days where Hermione blushed at the faint brushing of Fred's lips against her skin; they had been replaced with the heated kisses initiated not only by Fred, but also by her.

The annoying buzzing sound grew in volume. "Oh! My wand. That's the alarm used to call us in if there's an emergency." Hermione grabbed her wand, quickly transfiguring her dress into work attire and department robes.

"I've got to go, Fred. I don't know how long I'll be gone."

He nodded in silent understanding. Unpseakables were the investigators and innovators within the Department of Mysteries; but, there were times when they would be called to assist the aurors. That was the extent of his knowledge of Hermione's job. When she began, they had come to an understanding - he would ask her no questions and she would tell him no lies. Usually, she told him of these types of calls after they were completed; this is the first time it had interrupted their plans.

"Be safe." His sweet kiss to her forehead was all the sendoff they had time for.

"Always."

Three hours later Fred was slumped in her squishy living room chair. He had waited for her to return before giving in to his hunger and eating a quiet meal alone. The neatly arranged plate he made for Hermione sat in front of her dinning room chair with a heating charm keeping it warm.

The more time that passed, the more his imagination started to run away with him. He worried about her safety when she was gone on these late night emergency missions. He didn't doubt that she was a strong and capable witch; any woman who could live through the war facing the atrocities she had certainly couldn't be considered weak.

But, a part of him wanted to be the one to protect her. Time after time he had seen his mum waiting on his dad to return from some mission for the Order. He always envisioned that he would be that man some day, the one who would be in harms way as he took care of his family. Of course he hoped nothing resembling the war would happen again, but he had long since been resolved to guard his witch. Yet, here he was, sitting idly by in Hermione's living room.

As he was looking around the room to distract himself from worrying, his eyes fell on the photographs situated on the mantel above the fireplace. Walking closer, he saw a picture of the two of them dancing at the celebratory ball at the ministry. She had been so beautiful in her dress robes. That was the first time he held her in his arms. It was that night, too, that he knew he wanted to see her again.

In a silver frame was a candid picture of George, Hermione, and himself the night they received the businessman's award for their work at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. He was standing in the middle with his arm draped around her shoulder, stealing glances at the blushing witch beside him.

Another one caught his eye. Hermione was wearing the cute green dress that made her look sexy as hell without even trying. That was from the night he asked her to be his girlfriend. He remembered it vividly . . _He brought Hermione back to her new flat, wanting to make sure she got home safely. He knew she was tired so he didn't stay long, but he had been trying to ask her since their first encounter with the mistletoe that night. "I've had a great time today. Actually, I have a great time every day I'm with you. Would you be my girlfriend? I want to date you, and just you."_

Several frames over was a picture of them wearing red Santa Claus hats with white furry trim. His mum had insisted on photographing each couple in front of the Christmas tree. His photographed image kept stealing kisses while Hermione smiled prettily at the camera. That was the night of the Weasley family meal when they announced they were dating. He expected George to have already known since he frequently interrupted them when they would find a moment for themselves. He was surprised, though, when everyone else told them it was about time.

He and Hermione sat at a cozy table for their Valentine's Day dinner in the white picture frame. The restaurant had hired a photographer as a part of the reservations for each couple that night. He purposely stalled, wanting to see Hermione pout with her full, kissable lips before he agreed to the picture. It was _her_ who instigated the hugs and kisses in their photographed selves this time.

Numerous other pictures sat nestled among the prominent ones on the mantle. By midnight, he had looked at all of them several times. He was frustrated that he had no control of the situation, with his worry increasing with each moment. His hands were tied, and he knew he had no option but to stay and wait for her to return. Unless he wanted to go back to his and George's flat which was an even worse idea.

Just as he was about to reapply the heating charm on Hermione's dinner, the floo activated and a battered and bruised Hermione stumbled out.

Fred rushed to her, lifting her in his arms. When she winced, he immediately set her down.

"I'm okay, Fred. Just a few bruises," she said softly.

He knew she wouldn't say anything else, she couldn't. But his heart ached when he saw the faint black and blue marks forming on her arms and cheek. Wrapping her gently back into his arms, he pulled her close.

She nuzzled into his chest, happy to be back home and in his arms. As tired as she was, Hermione couldn't mistake Fred's next words.

"I love you so much Hermione."


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary:** Finding a date shouldn't be too difficult for Hermione, heroine of the war, and Fred, fun-loving and famous in his own right. Yet, the two fall into a pattern of relying on each other to fulfill the 'plus one' requirement on the invitations they receive.

**Author's Note:** _This Fred and Hermione adventure is coming to an end. The final chapter will be posted tomorrow. Thanks to those of you who have so kindly reviewed. _

**Disclaimer:** All characters and setting references to Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling.

**Plus One**

_**Chapter 9: Can We Talk**_

Arthur Weasley had an uncanny knack for knowing when to give his children space, listening when they weren't even sure they could form the words for an important or delicate conversation, and when to press them to speak. The night Fred came home for supper without George or Hermione turned out to be one of those patient nights he was used to, especially with his older boys.

He could easily remember when Bill started joining him in his muggle tool shop those many years ago before joining Gringotts as a curse breaker in Egypt. He and his eldest son had built Molly a beautiful porch swing before Bill had sorted things out enough to begin talking.

Charlie, too, sought his dad when deciding whether or not to accept a position as a dragon tamer in the wilds of Romania. He, like Bill before him, needed to work with his hands on a project alongside Arthur before the words started to spill from his mouth. That summer, the Weasley men stripped, sanded, and repainted Molly's beloved swing while Charlie talked and Arthur patiently listened.

When Fred, like his brothers before him, followed Arthur out to the shed that night after supper, he knew there would be a good chanced that Molly's old swing would get a face lift. Sometimes a man just had to work things out before he could talk about them, and he would be there waiting and listening when Fred was ready.

After about ten minutes of puttering around and Fred making himself comfortable on the high stool next to the work bench, Arthur opened the large drawer filled with spoons of various sizes and designs.

Seeing the look of surprise on his son's face, he chuckled. "You didn't think I only collected batteries, did you?"

"Why do you have all of these collections, dad?"

Fred had a very curious expression on his face that Molly would say looked exactly like his own when he was younger. Arthur sat in thought for a moment, trying to explain. "It's my Quidditch I suppose. My way to relax."

This seemed to placate Fred for a while and the two lapsed back into a relatively quiet time.

He watched as his son seemed to struggle with his thoughts, and he knew it wouldn't be much longer until they got to the root of Fred's dilemma. The old swing might have to wait, though. Fred, and George for that matter, had personalities that were very different from their older brothers. He had an idea that might help his son, something that they could create together.

"These seven," he said while pointing to the largest tablespoons in the collection, "were a part of the original set your uncles Fabian and Gideon gave your mother when we got married."

"Really? How did they end up out here then?"

"After they were killed, your mum thought they were too special for everyday use and she asked me to take care of them."

He pointed to the next matching teaspoons, "And there are seven of these smaller ones from the same set."

Fred listened for a while longer, but when he seemed to be caught up in his own thoughts, Arthur let him be and started polishing the Prewett-Weasley silverware.

Eventually, Fred started to fidget and the companionable silence was broken. "I never thought I would worry so much about Hermione when she gets called away for work. I know she's tough and smart and plenty capable of protecting herself, but I can't help worrying when she gets called out to tend to an emergency . . ."

Once Fred started talking, it was like the dam had been broken. He vented all of his frustration and concerns while absentmindedly picking up a cloth and starting to polish the teaspoons.

"A few weeks ago, well . . . I was at her flat when she received the message. Aside from a few times during the war, it was the longest night of my life.

"When she came home, the bruises were still a bluish/black color and I had to be careful when I hugged her.

"I love her. Truly and completely. And, I think I'll love her for the rest of my life."

Fred laid aside the cloth and looked at his dad.

"I wish I could say that it gets easier, son, but it doesn't. When the war was at its darkest, your mother would stay up waiting much like you did the other night for me to return from my latest mission for the Order."

"Mum always had her clock so she knew you were alright."

"Not always. It was actually during the first war against You-Know-Who that it first found a place in the Burrow.

"I gave it to her hoping to ease her mind a bit." Arthur chuckled again, remembering the following conversation about 'expanding' the clock that led to it being forgotten for the rest of the night.

"Tell me more about Hermione . . ."

And, so he did. Fred admitted that he intended to marry Hermione if she would have him and he wanted to ask her as soon as he found the right time.

"I'm going to look for a ring this week." Fred sat there deep in thought for a moment. As was custom in the wizarding world, he wanted to find the perfect engagement gift for her. The ring was typically more of a symbol of his intentions and her acceptance. What he needed was something that would be unique for her that he would present to her after they began their engagement.

"If I might make a suggestion . . ." At Fred's nod, Arthur continued. "I'm sure that there are many times that Hermione is just as concerned for you as you are for her. You could give her a clock that will give you both that measure of reassurance and, eventually, add your own children to it."

Fred sat in thought. He envisioned his beautiful Hermione cradled in his arms as he carried her through the door of their own home. He could also imagine the day that she would be round with their child. There would be promotions for her and expansions for him at the shop along the way. This is the life he desperately hoped she would consent to give him, sharing in all of it together.

With a look of excitement on his face, he asked, "Where can I get one of them?"

Arthur pulled one of each size of the Prewett-Weasley spoons out of the drawer. "Your mother and I have been saving these for you. You see, I made the clock for your mother and I would be glad to help you make one of your own."

Fred sat gob smacked at this revelation, his mouth hanging agape before a smile lit his face. "So you were a bit of an inventor yourself?"

"You could say that."

They shared a conspiratorial laugh before immediately setting to work.

The two Weasley men spent most of the evenings for the next two weeks working diligently to make Hermione's gift. Arthur took care to allow Fred to create most of it and add the charms to each of the spoons.

On the nights that he wasn't working on her gift, Fred and Hermione were inseparable. Whether they went out or simply chose to make dinner together at her flat, neither could have asked for more.

When Fred couldn't wait any longer, he wrote to Hermione.

_I have a favor to ask of you . . will you be my 'plus one' tomorrow night for dinner? It's a special night. - Fred_

_Absolutely. I'd love to. - Hermione_


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary:** Finding a date shouldn't be too difficult for Hermione, heroine of the war, and Fred, fun-loving and famous in his own right. Yet, the two fall into a pattern of relying on each other to fulfill the 'plus one' requirement on the invitations they receive.

**Author's Note:** _Here is the final chapter! I hope you've enjoyed reading the story as much as I have writing it. Special thanks to WeasleyForMe and MistyMist :) Thank you, all, for the wonderful reviews throughout the story. So, for one last time, don't forget to review._

**Disclaimer:** All characters and setting references to Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling.

**Plus One**

_**Chapter 10: Plus One**_

_I need you to be my 'plus one.' Lee and Angelina are having an engagement party tomorrow night and my invitation insists that I bring a date. You owe me, you know. I have fulfilled your 'plus one' exactly thirteen times and you are woefully far behind. -Fred_

How he managed to keep track of the number of favors they had given one another baffled Hermione. Of course she intended to accompany him, that had been established a long time ago. Glancing at the beautiful clock on the wall, she realized he was at home, too.

Picking up the elegant eagle quill Fred had given her on her last birthday, she dipped it into the ink and began to write her answer.

_Really? That's not exactly what I remember reading on the invitation. 'Lee Jordan and Angelina Johnson cordially invite you to attend their engagement party.' When I looked at __**our**__ invitation, I was sure it said Mr. and Mrs. Fred Weasley. But, if you're sure it said Fred Weasley plus one, then I guess I do owe you. - Hermione_

Just as she laid the quill down, two arms snaked around her, hugging her tenderly. With a deep whisper, Fred said, "My clever wife . . ." He trailed off as he started kissing her neck, leaving her wilting in his arms.


	11. Missing Moment - Chapter 9 34

**Disclaimer: All characters and setting references to Harry Potter belong to J.K. Rowling.**

**Truly Madly Deeply**

**By Clover Bay**

_This is a Fred/Hermione missing moment story from 'Plus One'. It can also be considered Chapter Nine and Three-Quarters since it fits conveniently between chapters nine and ten of that story. [Originally, this was posted as an independent story.] _

_Summary for 'Plus One': Finding a date shouldn't be too difficult for Hermione, heroine of the war, and Fred, fun-loving and famous in his own right. Yet, the two fall into a pattern of relying on each other to fulfill the 'plus one' requirement on the invitations they receive. _

_Summary for 'Truly Madly Deeply': As they grew closer, Fred realized that he couldn't be satisfied as just Hermione's 'plus one' any longer. With more courage than he imagined he would need to muster, Fred prepares to ask Hermione . . ._

Fred stared at the worn parchment in his hands that held two years worth of conversations, discussions, revelations, and declarations of love. He never imagined the journey that his and George's rather ingenious invention would make as he discovered the mysteries that were Hermione Granger.

When he first gave her the _Twin Paper_, asking that she simply keep in touch as she, Ron, and Harry left that summer to complete their secretive task assigned by Dumbledore, he had no idea that the studious, book-wormish girl would become the one he eagerly anticipated hearing from. Her nightly musings quickly became the highlight of his day, especially as the darkness of war enveloped them all.

It wasn't until after the war, though, that he and Hermione became inseparable. A rather clever message from him asking if she would be his 'plus one' to a stuffy engagement began the ritual that eventually led them to be dating in earnest.

Hermione was continually surprising him. Aside from her beauty, and she was indeed truly lovely with her pretty brown eyes and sexy curves, she had a wicked sense of humor. He caught a glimpse of this when she, unknowingly at first, aided in creating several of the best selling products Weasley's Wizard Wheezes had seen to date. She was able to see products that neither he nor George realized even needed creating. And, she managed this without being vengeful or simply being out to retaliate against some injustice she'd incurred.

She had become the first one he wanted to share good news with, as well as the one with whom he sought comfort if something had gone badly. She was even the one he could commiserate with when something strange happened. With a chuckle, he remembered the afternoon he accidentally vanished half of the store . . .

_George and Lee Jordan had each left early to clean up for dates with their girlfriends. Sulking a bit at being left behind to work on Hermione's final day off before she joined the Ministry of Magic in the Department of Mysteries as an Unspeakable, he hastily cast a spell to tidy up the shelves so he could leave as soon as possible. _

_A moment later he looked to see the progress of the charm and was floored to realize he'd literally lost aisles and aisles of products. Before he could try to find a rational solution, the bell above the door chimed, signaling another customer that he would have to deal with._

_In no mood to be cheerful or accommodating, he bellowed out from the now echoing and empty side of the story, "I'm sorry, but we've just closed. Come back another day . . ay . .ay."_

"_Is that so . . so . . so . ." came the echoed response of an all too familiar voice._

_Fred was beyond mortified to have Hermione find out about this stupid mistake. To make matters worse, he was so flustered, he would probably have to ask for her help to restore Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. _

"_I brought lunch . . ." Hermione began only to let her voice trail off as she saw Fred standing alone in the completely empty end of the store._

"_Ah, just in time. As you can see, I've cleared a bit of space for a picnic."_

_Hermione giggled at his self-depreciating humor. She struggled to control herself as Fred began to blush and turned away from her slightly._

_Laying a comforting hand on his arm, Hermione smiled kindly at him, titling her head until she had craned her neck as far back as it would go, which was necessary in his modified work robes that made him a good two feet taller than usual. The goofy face she pulled forced a laugh of his own past his lips._

"_I'm not sure what happened, but you know we'll laugh about this some day, right?"_

"_Yeah, but mostly I'm embarrassed right now."_

_With a tug on the lapels of his magenta robes, Hermione pulled him down to her height and stole a kiss._

_Together, they spent the rest of the afternoon casting spells until they were able to reverse the charm Fred accidentally used._

Shaking his head, Fred could, indeed, laugh about the incident now. Looking down at the parchment again, he re-read the last two entries on his half of their Twin Paper:

"_I have a favor to ask of you . . will you be my 'plus one' tomorrow night for dinner? It's a special night." - Fred_

"_Absolutely. I'd love to." - Hermione _

A quick glance at his watch had him rolling the parchment up once again and tucking it neatly into the top drawer of his dresser. His time for reminiscing had passed; now, he had one last errand to run before picking Hermione up at her flat for their most special date yet.

Apparating to McAllister's Jewelers in Diagon Alley, Fred browsed among the glass cases containing bracelets, necklaces, and other finely crafted pieces of jewelry until Mr. McAllister, himself, was free. It only took moments for him to retrieve the specially made piece Fred requested from the work room in the back of the store.

Fred was more than pleased, and said so not only with the hearty handshake he offered but also with the tip he included when he signed his receipt.

_Hermione's Place_

Hermione wearily climbed out of the shower. Steam clung to the mirror and made the air foggy in the little bathroom of her flat. Her body felt heavy, and her arms protested at being raised to towel dry her hair. If her reflection had been more visible, she undoubtedly would have seen tired circles shading the skin below her eyes.

It had been an exhausting day; the aurors had called for support from several of the Unspeakables, including her, not long after she'd entered the Department of Mysteries this morning.

The biggest case of the year finally seemed to be cracking when their suspect, referred to primarily as Stranfield, slipped up and forgot to remove his personal magical trace from the latest threat toward the Minister of Magic. Since time was of the essence, Hermione and several of the other Unspeakables joined the aurors in deciphering the signature and locating the madman. What they hadn't taken into account, though, was that Stranfield would be holed up in such a heavily fortified bastion. The ensuing fight brought back vivid images of the final battle at Hogwarts.

Having trained alongside the aurors, Hermione and the others were capable of holding their own. But, when the dust settled, Hermione felt as though she was ready to collapse. The 'lone man' had quickly become nearly two dozen before they could be apprehended.

Looking down at her towel draped body, she saw dark bruises starting to from along her arms and two angry red whelps across her stomach from ill-dodged hexes. She let out a long, deep sigh. She wanted nothing more than to curl up with Fred on her oversized couch and spend the evening snuggling with him and relaxing her tired body.

She sighed again, knowing that they already had plans to go out. And, while Fred would understand her wanting to stay home, she didn't have the heart to ask him to change their plans. He'd seemed so excited last night when he asked her out. _"It's a special night,"_ he'd written.

Picking up her wand from the bathroom vanity, she began to cast glamours onto the bruises. Healing them would take good old fashioned time; but, until then, she wanted to mask them. Even that was taking more effort than she cared to expend, so she quickly tossed her wand onto the bed when she finished.

Black or green. Hermione wondered if this would be a little black dress night, including a fancy dinner in an elegant restaurant or a more lively, fun green dress night, complete with dancing and probably joining some of their friends.

Looking into her closet, she decided on the green one. Fred had once told her it was his favorite, and she loved to see the heat in his eyes when he gave her _that_ look. She shivered as she thought of him, suddenly feeling more like herself and less drained.

Hermione had barely gotten the dress zipped when she heard Fred's unmistakable rap on her door. He absolutely refused to use the floo when picking her up for a date, maintaining that it wouldn't be gentlemanly to walk in if she weren't ready to be seen. She hadn't really tried to argue with him, finding it endearing that he was being so thoughtful.

Opening the door, she was met with a large bouquet of yellow roses and a very handsome red-head. She breathed in the sweet aroma of the flowers without taking her eyes from Fred's blue ones. After so many months of dating, she was still enthralled with his charming smile and felt weak-kneed when it was directed so powerfully at her.

His smile faltered, though, we caught sight of her wrist. He gently took it in his hand, running his fingers carefully along the bruised skin.

She mentally slapped herself at forgetting to glamour her wand hand. "It's okay, really," she assured him.

He stepped forward, wrapping his arms gingerly around her. Fred instantly knew that she'd been on another mission. It had escaped him that just because he'd spent the day getting everything ready for their special night that she would be able to do the same.

"Was anyone hurt?" Fred asked quietly, knowing she wouldn't be able to discuss the details of her latest assignment.

"Just roughed up a bit, nothing to worry about, really." Even to her own ears she didn't sound very convincing.

His hugged her more tightly to his chest. Her slight wince made him pull back quickly.

"I didn't realize there were any on my back, but . . ." her voice trailed off.

"Do you have any bruise cream?"

She nodded, though she already decided to wait until after their date to use the strong smelling paste. She didn't fancy reminding him of his great aunt Muriel all night with the menthol aroma of the muscle relaxant and healing salve.

"Where is it? I'll get it for you."

"No, really, Fred. It can wait." She tried to persuade him, "Don't we have some place special to go?"

"Not tonight," he said quickly. The moment he realized the Unspeakables had been called out today, he decided to change their plans. Dinner could wait. And, he could always ask her tomorrow night, or the next night, or the next. His love wouldn't change, nor would his intentions. What did it matter if he had to postpone it.

Hermione started to protest, but he cut her off.

"I don't want you to be hurting all night. Let me do this for you. If for no other reason, than to give me some peace of mind." Fred had led her to the couch and slipped her shoes off to make her more comfortable.

Hermione was taken aback by his gentle touch. It was times like these, when his thoughtfulness was so clearly evident that she had to quell the hopes that flooded her mind about wanting more.

She could see herself with Fred for the next fifty, sixty, seventy . . well, forever together. But, she didn't know if he was ready for more than what they already had.

Whispering, he spoke closely to her ear as he moved her hair aside and saw the blueish bruises along her shoulders, "Whenever you get hurt, I want to be the one to make it better."

He realized he was sounding really corny, but he went on. "Do you remember how you helped me re-grow my eyebrows when they were singed off last week? Or that time you led me around when I couldn't see because I had an allergic reaction to those new candies at the store?"

She nodded, grinning at how cute he looked holding onto her as she led him around her flat.

"I love you, and want to take care of you, too." Fred realized that his moment had come. It was far from the romantic dinner in the most expensive restaurant in Diagon Alley he originally intended, but his was the time nonetheless.

"Hermione," Fred began while taking her small hands in his larger ones, "you deserve someone more eloquent and less accident prone than me. But if you'll have me, I promise to take care of you after every mission. And I'll work hard to make sure you have all of the things you need. And . . . ."

His mouth became dry, and he could hardly lick his equally parched lips as he slid from the couch to kneel on the floor in front of her. "What I'm trying to say . . I mean . . what I'm trying to ask . . Hermione, I love you. Will you marry me?"

Hermione, for the first time, couldn't think of anything to say. Her brain was screaming 'yes!' but her mouth seemed to be disconnected and was just gaping open. With the words stuck on the tip of her tongue, she lunged forward, tackling Fred and letting her kisses answer him.

When they broke apart with lungs begging for air, Fred wore a silly grin. "So, is that a yes?"

"Yes," she said breathlessly.


End file.
